


before they were monsters, they were children

by Twani (Mikka)



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikka/pseuds/Twani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before becoming a Bounty Hunter and an Imperial Agent, two children talk about what they will do with their life. Incredibly self-indulgent piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before they were monsters, they were children

**Author's Note:**

> Generic Reminder: Chiss are considered adults at 10 years old, and are fully capable of making adult decisions at that point.
> 
> Also, this piece is so self-indulgent that it hurts.

Aanan is twelve years old, and he lives in a box.

It has three sides, one bed, and nothing else of import. He had a house, once, but the Imperial Soldiers took it away and reclaimed it for the Empire three years ago. Sometimes he walks past it and throws rocks at its windows, then he scampers away before the soldiers see him. The soldiers are coming back now; they say the war is over.

“I don't think the war is over,” Aalis says, and Aanan believes her.

Aalis is older then him, all long legs and curves and fancy tattoos that cover her skin and an accent that he's never heard before, but all she does is live in the box next to him. She's just another alien in a city that hates aliens, but Aanan adores her. She's too stubborn to do anything but sit down and die, but he's too stubborn to watch her do it, so he acquires money. He picks through salvage, begs, sells his body, and steals. Aalis says he's gross, but Aalis only lives because he gives her food, so Aanan doesn't mind.

“Why do you think the war isn't over?” Aanan asks. They sit where their two boxes meet, and chew on soldiers rations. The food is hard to bite through and scratches at the top of the mouth, but he doesn't really care. Food is food.

“I know how soldiers are,” Aalis says. She rips at the food with viciousness: her teeth are stronger then his are. “To them, everyone who isn't them is an enemy.”

“How do you know?” Aanan challenges.

His sister is in the Imperial Navy; his other sister is in Imperial Intelligence. He hasn't seen either of them in years, but he would have received a notice if they had died, so he doesn't worry overmuch. When he was younger, it was hard to sleep without listening to them putter around, but now there's so much noise that he never gets much sleep anyway.

“I was in the military,” Aalis says. She doesn't sound proud.

Aanan adores her, but he thinks he might adore living in a house more. He wonders how many credits a deserter would fetch in the upper city. He wonders, but doesn't reply.

“I did good,” Aalis says. “But never good enough. You're always expected to do more, and never told how this more should be accomplished. My family's long time military, so I was expected to be the same, but it was just never enough.”

“Liar,” Aanan says.

Aalis glares at him.

“If you're family's military, you wouldn't talk weird,” Aanan says. It's the words of a child, but Aanan likes to play the child: to the humans who run the Empire, he is a child, and he likes to remain so in their eyes as it saves him from conscription. “As your family would live here.”

“Well, what about you? Aren't you supposed to be from Csilla?” Aalis demands.

“I don't remember it,” Aanan says honestly. “Dromand Kaas is my home.”

“Well it's my home, too,” Aalis snaps. She points at her box. “This, right here, is my home.”

“Okay,” Aanan says. “But you're still not military.”

Aalis takes her last bite of ration. Aanan isn't even halfway done with his. She chews like it's painful, making faces, and eventually she spits out a piece of it. It's wasted food, and food should never be wasted, but Aanan doesn't say anything but he wants secrets more then he wants an argument.

“I was,” Aalis says, and she swallows. “I was Republic military.”

“Oh,” Aanan says. He's not as surprised as he perhaps could be. “Then you're a traitor.”

“I don't work for the Empire, I just live here,” Aalis says defensively. “I'm just a deserter.”

“Okay,” Aanan says. “What work are you going to do, then?”

They've talked, but never about the future. Never about the past. Always about the present- will that man give them money, does it stink more then usual today, who do you think that body that fell from the upper city belonged to, did you hear that the slaves revolted again- but never anything important to them. Their friendship, if it can be called that, is incredibly easy and only the thinnest bond.

Aalis doesn't seem like she wants to answer the question, so Aanan answers it instead. “I bet I have to enter the military, but I don't want to. I want to do something fun for a living.”

“Work is never fun,” Aalis says, talking to him like he's a kid again. She frowns. “I'm not going to join the Imperial Military, either. I bet they're even worse then the Republic. I'm... I'm going to be independent. Take my own jobs.”

Aanan nods, and there's a long pause.

Then, Aalis whispers, “I'm going to stop the wars.”

“How are you going to do that?” Aanan whispers back.

Aalis's face scrunches up and makes her look strange to him. Then she sets her mouth in a pout, straightens her back, and says, “I'm going to get rid of the Sith and the Jedi.”

Aanan stares at her, at a loss for words for once. Then he scoffs. “You can't do that.”

“If there were no Sith and no Jedi, there would be no more war,” Aalis says. “All they do is fight about their stupid philosophy and drag everyone else in to their messes. I won't be part of that. I'll stop 'em all, and then... then we'll all be free.”

Aanan thinks people would still fight if there were no Sith and Jedi, because he thinks people always fight. Aanan thinks that the Sith are very powerful and from what he's heard, the Jedi are very powerful as well, and there's no way Aalis can defeat them. Aanan thinks it's a very silly idea, one no one else but Aalis would ever think of, and that it just leads to impossibility and recklessness. And Aanan does not like recklessness.

“You should just assassinate the Supreme Chancellor instead,” he says. “Then the Republic can't agree to make war, and the Empire would just conquer them, and then there would be no war because we'd all be the same.”

“You can't just assassinate the Supreme Chancellor,” Aalis laughs.

“Why not?” Aanan challenges. Aanan has a blaster pistol, he has a blaster rifle, and more then that he has dozens of knives, hidden all over his body and drawn at moment's notices. “I bet I could assassinate her.”

“It's a him,” Aalis says, rolling her eyes. “And I bet you couldn't. The Supreme Chancellor has all sorts of bodyguards, the Republic's best... best Troopers. I bet he could even call on the SpecForces, like Havoc Squad.”

The words 'Havoc Squad' seem to make her irritated, and she grabs his ration from him, and starts eating it. Aanan pouts at her, but she ignores it, so he lightly nudges her with a bare foot instead.

“Well, I don't think you'll be able to stop all wars without stopping the Supreme Chancellor,” he says finally. “The Jedi and Sith are one thing, but the Supreme Chancellor is the one that okays or nays the wars, right? Cut off the head, and maybe the body will stop squirming.”

“Well,” Aalis says, swallowing another bite. “Maybe I could defeat the Supreme Chancellor. You're too young, but I have good training, and I'm only going to get better.”

“You don't even know how to use a rifle,” Aanan says, making a series of grotesque faces at her.

“All I need is a pistol, or two,” Aalis says.

A Sith Acolyte walks by, and both of them quickly bow their heads and look small. The Sith doesn't pay them a passing glance. That's good. Sometimes the Sith pay too much attention to the undesirables in their boxes, and then the Imperial Census Takers come down with the bags and someone gets a new box to live in.

“Then will you take out the Emperor, too?” Aanan says. “I don't think you can do that. I think you'd be a traitor and they'd torture you forever and ever, until not even Zabrak's can live any longer.”

“Lots of people want to kill the Emperor,” Aalis says, voice quiet, because they are speaking high treason where a Sith has just walked. “Maybe one of them will do it for me.”

“No one can do it,” Aanan says, confident, and maybe a bit patriotic. “You can't just kill Sith, and you probably just can't kill Jedi, either. Not unless you're like them. If you're not, the only thing you can do is stay out of their way... or join them.”

“I would never pledge myself to a Jedi or Sith,” Aalis says. She finishes Aanan's ration, and leans back a bit. “They're both just stupid and powerful and think they know everything, but all they know is religion and how to kill. Well, I know how to kill, too.”

Aanan had a sister who was force sensitive. She was only two years older then him, but she had died even before the Sith had come for her. She was weak, but there's still something sad about, he thinks.

“If it would help me get ahead, I'll pledge myself to whoever I need to,” Aanan admits, after a moment's pause. “I can always get rid of them later. I... I don't want to live in a box for all my life.”

That's the closest to weakness he'll ever say out loud, and he regrets the words almost immediately.

But Aalis doesn't seem to mind. “Don't be stupid,” she says, and then she leans over and touches her lips to his cheek. They feel sticky, but it's a hot day, and they live on a jungle planet. “When you grow up, we'll get married. Then we'll live on the money I make getting rid of these important, useless people, and our kids will be red and blue and live in houses on some world far away from the wars.”

Aanan shuts his eyes for a moment, then smiles, and says, “Okay.”

But even with his eyes shut, he doesn't think about the future.


End file.
